


War

by captainmeow



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:40:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23413963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainmeow/pseuds/captainmeow
Summary: There are fewer times better to discover the truth of things and people than during a crisis; and what better crisis could a royal family, bestowed with the power of gods, and divided between planets and subterfuge, hope to experience than a full-blown war? What makes someone family? What defines love? Where are the lines of morality meant to be drawn?I'll be updating tags as I go.Content now rated as mature for language and upcoming dark events.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	1. Tea

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to preface here that I've taken great liberty to change some relationships and (inter)planetary situations. It just felt better that way.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Dave have tea together and then take a stroll to chat it up with some prisoners.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Most people had heard these words. They had learned a misquote, as was often the case. The correct phrase was, "Uneasy is the head that wears the crown."

Rose was undeniably uneasy about her latest promotion. Pleased with the results of substitutionary leadership on Skaia during the Queen's absence, Rose now had been gifted the position as Princess of Prospit, free to rule as she saw fit, to select her own advisors, and to lead her own conquests, all within the parameters set by her mother. Leading a people or ruling a planet was no small task, and the responsibilities were enormous. Yet royal obligations notwithstanding, Rose felt the notable ascension to be another part of life. It was pleasing--no, _surpassing_ \-- her mother that was the challenge.

"So what's the reason we're still having tea parties even though you've got big important business to do?"

Rose blinked the table and her brother Dave back into focus. A curious turn of events that her mother had placed them in, without question. Dave had once been allowed to oversee the planet as its leader; then, as if demoting him, their mother had instead placed Rose in charge of Prospit and Dave had been removed for more “royal training,” as she had called it. An objective understanding would deduce that Rose’s promotion had not necessarily showed weightier preference, as Dave was presumably being developed for yet greater things; and while neither of them were resentful of the changes, Dave was admittedly often bored and uninterested in certain royal studies—which made him conveniently available at her whim.

"Do you not like lavender tea anymore, Dave?"

"Naw, you know I don't have any preference for tea. It's all leaf juice to me."

"Tea is a dignified drink with stimulating properties."

"Yeah, yeah, maybe for princesses, but us princes need more hardcore drinks to slam down our manly throats, like--"

"Water. You only drink water, Dave."

"What makes you think I'm not chugging massive quantities of booze like mom as part of the royal training? C'mon, Rose, I could totally be pouring fiery fluids down, guzzling gin and vodka and rum and everything else she stashes in Ye Olde Royal Chambers."

"I know you only drink water because, besides the remarkably large alcoholic stores, there is nothing else suitable for you to drink; and the last time you became drunk, which we both know was also your first, you became unspeakably emotional to the point that you were so embarrassed that we summarily agreed you would never allow yourself to imbibe as such ever again."

Across from her, Rose could see subtle signs of discomfort. Dave grunted in the back of his throat and his lips tightened briefly before he sighed and shrugged his shoulders. His face was otherwise unreadable, as he insisted on wearing sunglasses indoors even now, but Rose knew her brother enough to know that if any physical trait had been expressed, she had struck a nerve. And just as well, for she had requested their tea time to discuss _her_ feelings on a matter, not his.

"You were supposed to play along and say something like, 'Ah yes, Dave, I can see you starting a new royal image, one of maximum imbibement and ridiculously inebriated poetry.'"

"I suppose I could have played along, but that is the exact opposite of the issue I wished to discuss, of which I had hoped to express some vulnerability and speculation in private with my trusted sibling and friend."

At this, Dave postured himself so that he leaned over the table on gently crossed arms, and cocked his head against a shoulder. It was a position she had seen before which demonstrated his full attention to her, for which she knew was uncommon and therefore more appreciated by her at this moment.

"What's up, Rose? You don't often discuss feelings."

"Perhaps. Are you aware of the troll prisoners Dirk captured last week?" 

At the mention of Dirk, she imagined a scowl crossing Dave’s visage, though his features were kept neutral. When their mother had first married, it had involved a man who already had a son. Dirk was clearly comely, talented, and strong even for a child of few years. It was an understatement to say that Skaian gossip skyrocketed when the Queen had chosen not to name Dirk as the successor, though she had made him a general among other several considerable titles, but rather had chosen future children to inherit the throne. There had always been some distaste to Dave about his step-brother, though Rose had never been privy to the details as to why, and could come to no reasonable conclusion on her own given the favor that their mother had shown her own biological children over Dirk. Still, she had made a point of being delicate about broaching the subject; though now, she suspected that they might see a great deal more of Dirk, and she hoped that Dave found the maturity to overcome whatever reservations he had harbored.

"I knew there were two prisoners who had been caught snooping around, but they're trolls?" Dave was unable to pretend he was not intrigued. His disdain for Dirk had been replaced by blatant interest and surprise, his eyebrows perched higher on his forehead and his lips slightly curled.

"Yes. Trolls. Both male. Reports suggest one to be unusually adept at mental feats and psychic ability, and the other a more physical combatant. Perhaps a mage and bodyguard sent to scout, or to perform a more… discreet task."

"You think they're assassins?"

"It's hard to say." 

Rose nursed her tea for a moment and let her fingers trace along the rim of the cup. She could feel her brother’s gaze boring into her and wondered only for a moment if he shared her intentions.

"I know that look. Rose, you wouldn’t happen to be planning on visiting these guys, would you?"

"Aren't you curious to meet trolls yourself, Dave?"

"Yeah sure. But aren't we supposed to leave that to our royal subjects or security guards or whatever?"

"We're on my planet. I see no reason we can't take a walk on my planet."

A smirk curled into the corners of Dave's mouth.

"A revolutionist before me, my sister," he spoke with a flourish of a hand. "Does that sound royal enough yet?"

"I see you have learned more irony from your cultural sessions," Rose remarked, sipping once more at her near-empty teacup before placing it to the side and rising to her feet. At this movement, Dave also stood, and circled the table to pause at her side long enough to offer an arm. She threaded an arm through his and led their pace as they began walking towards the exit. 

With each step, Rose found herself questioning her own character and the root of the curiosity she held for these trolls. It was doubtlessly alluring to learn more of another species, but that could easily have been done under tutelage of a historian or hearsay of some sensational adventurer. A more sinister motive pooled in her stomach and burned at her composure. She swallowed thickly and cleared her throat, which caught the ear of her companion quickly enough that she had no need to raise her voice much.

"Dave, do you suppose we would ever be forced to resort to unspeakable acts of violence in order to preserve ourselves?" 

Her brother had often been called aloof, selfish, or even flippant, but never oblivious. Rose knew better than to think him unintelligent or naïve despite all nonchalant airs. His voice low as hers, he pointedly addressed her without pause for thought.

"Where the hell does a question like that even come from? Are you hoping to assault some troll prisoners? You wouldn't even need to do that with your magic skills."

She could hear the unease in his voice, though his body remained relaxed as they strode in sync down stairs and across bridges.

"Suppose these truly are spies or assassins. These are emissaries of conflict. Of war." She paused, and when he said nothing, she continued expounding on her thoughts.

"Even the unlearned understand the advantages of knowledge in the face of such scenarios. Here we have the potential threat of war from an invading species, and with this comes opportunity to learn about our opposition. But I assume they would not be forthcoming with information. And so, to extract this knowledge necessary to prepare ourselves, we might be moved to employ less savory practices."

"Rose, are you saying you're worried about having to torture trolls? Because that's what I'm hearing falling out of your mouth like peasant crap into the golden toilet."

"You would have no qualms?"

As they rounded a corner and approached the jail, Dave stepped away from her and she relinquished hold of his arm.

"I don't know. I'm not thinking about clashing kingdoms with a bunch of trolls, and I'm definitely not thinking about roughing up some idiot prisoners. That's more Dirk's forte, and he can have it. But I guess I'd do whatever was necessary to protect the people important to me if the situation presented itself, you know?"

"Of course. I feel the same. It's just..."

She found herself unable to say the words. Dave cast a long look at her, and Rose felt for a moment she might share with him that she looked forward to the thought of somehow avenging her family through afflicting trolls. That she might enjoy it even if there was no urgency which would require the action. Yet the thought that Dave, her last true confidant with whom she had allowed herself to be open and unrestrained, might think less of her for an eagerness towards pointless brutality—she suppressed the desire to finish her sentence, and decided it was better to keep those issues to herself.

"Let's see what these prisoners look like," Rose sighed, and stepped through the double doors and into the jail. Behind her followed her brother, and a lingering anxiety that disturbed the back of her mind.

War. A word no one had wanted introduced to them, but certainly seemed to grow more possible by the day. And now that she had rule of Prospit, making the right decisions in light of that dark possibility was more crucial than ever.


	2. Prospit: Dungeons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sollux has a bad dream. Fortunately, when he wakes up, he and Karkat are still in jail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a bad dream can just ruin the rest of your day, you know?

_“Tarry longer, Mage, tarry with me. Let us become… familiar…”_

Shapeless shadows fluctuated among themselves; they dissolved, formed and solidified, tumbled towards him and shrank back somehow all at once. Distant echoes—haunting laughter and coaxing whispers—funneled into his mind. His control over himself languished and he stretched out invisible tendrils of his mind in search of reprieve.

Inescapable torture. The urgency of impending doom taunted him, reiterated tirelessly words of threat and terror, and slowly coiled around his throat until he found himself strangled in a silent scream.

_“Tarry longer, Mage, tarry with me. Do not be afraid of this unknown… we could become… familiar…”_

On the verge of surrender, Sollux jerked back to consciousness as a weight snagged him by the shoulder and retrieved his attention.

“Sollux.”

The voice was harsh but quiet, like gravel hushed into the ground, and Sollux recognized the voice of his companion, Karkat. He was consequently reminded of their predicament, which elicited a groan from his tightening chest; and though he was physically blind, he managed to “feel” enough of their surroundings to understand that they were still in the confines of the dungeon.

“Shouldn’t we be using code names or something more appropriate for our situation,” Sollux muttered. His words came out in muddled hisses, his lisp ever present. Between blindness and the lisp, he would rather have removed the latter. But if Karkat ever was annoyed by the accent, he had never mentioned it.

“We can just speak in our own language. These people are idiots. They won’t understand a word we’re saying.”

Sollux could envision Karkat crouched next to him, eyes rolled, exasperation plastered on his dour face.

“You don’t know that,” he sighed softly in response, and pushed himself up to sit cross-legged on the smoothed stone floor. They had agreed for him to sleep during the humans’ day while Karkat kept watch, and later, once the sun had set, find a way to escape. Nightmares had rendered sleep too elusive.

“Suppose they understand us better than you give them credit for. What then?” Sollux questioned. He gingerly felt about his face and then the floor.

“They took your glasses. And I seriously doubt they could figure out anything about us. Humans don’t have spooky mind powers like we do.”

“We don’t know what they can do. That’s why we’re here, remember?”

Sollux heard his cellmate grunt and scuttle closer to him.

“Yeah, well,” Karkat groused, “we found out that at least one of them is a ridiculously skilled physical fighter.”

“Yeah.”

They had scarcely stepped foot onto the main streets of Prospit, in an alleyway no less, and a human male had confronted them about their “suspicious attire.” True to his boisterous nature, Karkat had ignorantly spewed out overconfident bluster, which had alerted who had turned out to be an officer on patrol. Even with his considerable psychic ability, Sollux had been unable to assist Karkat enough to gain them the upper hand; he had quickly succumbed to unconsciousness just after he heard his accomplice fall to the ground.

Now they were seated on the chilly interior of the Prospitian dungeon, and Sollux knew it wouldn’t be long before they received a visit. It was only sensible that intruders be interrogated; and, not only were they the intruders, they were also a foreign race on this planet. He had to wonder if he and Karkat could both withhold information long enough to escape, and he knew the answer to that question would not come early or easily.

“So are you going back to sleep so we can stay on schedule?”

Sollux found the other troll too loud. His own head pounded from a combination of nightmares, migraines, and bruises left from their arrest. But even if none of those issues were a bother, the fact remained that discretion was important.

“Mm. Maybe.”

“Maybe? What do you mean, ‘maybe’? Don’t you plan on getting out of here? Or is this more comfortable than the dumpy hive we’re relegated to back—dare I call it this—back home?”

“Karkat. Stop.”

Something nagged him in the back of his mind, and hearing became increasingly difficult for Sollux. Like a swarm of insects into whose hive he had just stumbled, a buzzing began to overtake his senses and his body grew numb.

“I, for one, _hate it here._ Ugh, you probably just got hit too hard in the head by that psychotic human guard and that’s why you’re being like this. How’s your head anyways, Sollux? Hey, Sollux?”

_Let us become familiar…_

“SOLLUX.”

Karkat’s fingers dug into his arms and Sollux suddenly was aware that the other troll had been shouting at him. With a hiss, Sollux pried the unwanted grip off of him and thrust the other male’s hands away.

_“What?!”_

“You were zoning out again!”

“Didn’t you want me to go to sleep?”

“Well, yeah, but you were mumbling a lot of weird sh—”

Down the hallway, footsteps announced the presence of guards. No, not just guards, Sollux determined; as he listened, he heard new voices—one male and one female—and the female voice caused his blood to chill.

_…familiar…_


	3. Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trolls are broken out of prison in a most unusual way.

Rose kept her steps light, careful not to disturb more dust than necessary. The dungeons, despite their purpose, deserved more maintenance than they had received. She made a mental note to find someone dependable to oversee the task as soon as she returned to the castle. For now, however, she focused on the descent deeper into the dungeon. Her eyes swept through each cell as they passed and despite so many vacant rooms, they walked further still.

They had searched two floors and had now descended onto the third. Where were the trolls? Ordinarily a guard would have conveniently escorted them to the prisoners, but Rose had elected to dismiss the assistance—and curious eyes—of any such staff. That left her and Dave to browse the occupants of the prison as if shopping on a leisurely outing.

Impatience suggested to her that they turn back and find some record of which prisoners were in which cells, when foreign words reached her ears, and Rose paused a moment to ascertain the direction of the source before she followed it. Close behind her was Dave, and she could feel the tension in his stride as he no doubt was prepared to serve as her bodyguard. A faint smile curled at the edges of her lips at the thought; he constantly strove for indifferent appearances, but she knew that Dave cared for her more than anyone else.

Once they rounded the corner, Rose realized they had reached what was effectively a dead end: the last cell down the hallway and this floor, which currently housed two trolls that neatly fit the descriptions she expected: one more muscular, suggestive of physical experience; and the other taller, slender, and with a more thoughtful disposition becoming of one with a “mental aptitude.”

Rose had done her best to seem neutral--nonchalant, even--about meeting the trolls face to face. Yet from the moment she had received the report of the two new prisoners, her mind had not once ceased to sift through an endless supply of questions. Like anyone else would, she most notably wondered why they were here; but she was far too intrigued by troll biology, society, and their magical potential, to be satisfied with simple-minded and practical facts. Prospit had droves of tomes about trolls, carapacians, humans, history, culture, and arts, among other things in its library, but there was nothing like witnessing something for yourself. Words could only express so much, and Rose had certainly her fill and more of words entirely on her own.

For all the questions, she had to start somewhere. And Rose had admitted to herself several times that she was unsure how to begin. Under the assumption that trolls could speak the same language--which some books suggested was possible--what should she ask first? If these particular trolls did not understand her, what then? Would she study their mannerisms and glean knowledge from deductions? And if they resisted her observations and studies, would she rely on the more drastic measures she had mentioned to Dave? Yet as soon as her scrutinizing eyes settled on the two males huddled on the cell floor, Rose instantly knew what she wanted to say first.

"Do you know who I am?" The words slipped out of her lips, and she hoped her expression was as calm as her voice smooth and her tone even. It was not the verbal but the physical response that Rose waited to see.

The immediate guess was that these were assassins, and who else would make for an obvious target other than one of the royal line? Rose knew that if they revealed even a speck of recognition for either her or Dave, assassination was more likely their objective. They would know the appearances of their marks. But if they were here as messengers, scouts, or even something as unlikely as refugees, then it was doubtful that they would know much more than basic geography at best.

Rose caught the scrape of nails--claws?--against the stone floor as the shorter of the two trolls drew himself into a squat. Yellow eyes glowered at her from behind an unruly dark mess of hair, and his mouth was twisted downwards in contempt before it spat out words she was delighted to understand, though they were a bit churlish at best.

"No. Now fuck off."

The troll plainly was putting on airs. Rose knew a tough act when she saw one due to practiced experience with Dave. If anything, the grumpy creature was likely trying to protect his companion, his body deliberately placed between her and the other troll. A surprisingly soft measure. But there was no knowledge of her in his eyes. She shifted her gaze past him, to the troll half hidden from her vision, and was interested by the sightless, silent stare in her direction.

Hollowed sockets. He was blind. Yet Rose felt he was more aware of his surroundings than physically possible. An inexplicable sensation crept through her mind and startled her enough that she almost lost visible composure. Somehow, she knew it true that he was the psychic, and there was an unseen presence she could not ignore. That invisible weight excited her—an excitement betrayed by her next words:

"Do you feel it, too?"

Rose surprised herself with the question, but the flicker of shock on the troll's face was enough confirmation. In her peripheral vision, she saw that Dave shifted his weight from one foot to the other and slipped one hand into a pocket. It was his subtle way of informing her that he was uncomfortable and that he wanted more information.

Dave would have to wait. Eager to proceed with self-appointed research, Rose extracted a small but thick leather-bound book and a pen from her own pockets. Perhaps in the supernatural respect, they were not so unlike, and any similarities found in the comparisons between humans and trolls should be recorded at once and later reviewed. Once she neatly jotted down a few words, Rose turned her attention back to the first troll, eager to learn more.

"What are your names?"

"Is this how humans interrogate their prisoners?" The troll snapped in sarcastic reply, and Rose heard Dave snort beside her despite himself.

Rose allowed herself a moment of pause and locked eyes with the mouthy troll. His expression was unfiltered condescension and something in his sharp eyes belittled her as if he had won the verbal exchange. She sighed and folded the pen into the book before she slipped it back into her pocket.

"I suppose I'm not acquainted with the troll customs of questioning. Were you expecting something more sinister and forceful?"

She knew Dave would protest, that the jailkeeper would relay what he found to Dirk, and that she would hear an earful from her mother; but Rose felt it in her favor to offer some display of power—to prove herself a worthy "interrogator." She rolled up her sleeves and summoned magic that ballooned around her hands, and it blistered her vision as it crackled into the air.

"Woah, what are you doing?" Dave reached out from her right, but Rose stepped away from him and aimed through the cell bars.

"I'll ask again," she stated warningly. "What are your names?"

Was it hesitation or fear that traced the troll's eyes? For a moment, Rose thought he would submit to her and supply the information. But what she hoped to be intimidating suddenly seemed to make the troll more resolved to remain uncooperative. A sneer covered his lips as he opened his mouth to reject her, but the other troll interrupted him before he could speak.

"Karkat."

A mixture of alarm and anger flashed across the visage of the closest troll, and he turned to deliver some words Rose didn't catch but knew the tone to be disbelief.

Was Karkat the blind troll's name, or the angry one's? As if to answer her question, the eyeless troll exchanged some terse words with his cellmate before he clarified, "I'm Sollux. He's Karkat. You can put your light away. It's too loud in here already."

Rose thought the lisp to be amusing, as well as the statement regarding volume. Or did this troll--Sollux--mean something more specific to magic? His voice seemed tired and resigned in a tone that belied more hardship than a night in the dungeon could have caused.

Satisfied with her first success, Rose dismissed the glowing magic from her fingertips and felt it ebb away into nothingness. Beside her, Dave visibly relaxed, if only slightly, until her next question.

"How would you like to come with me?"

If there was a word to describe the feeling of being simultaneously flabbergasted and unsurprised, Dave thought he should patent it, because that was precisely what he felt when Rose offered the trolls what was effectively an early release from prison. Given their earlier conversation and his sister's cryptic remarks, Dave admittedly anticipated something reckless or bizarre, but freeing potential threats to the kingdom breached the limits of his tolerance.

"You sure you don't want to rethink that offer?" He whispered incredulously. When Rose seemed determined to ignore him and she began to reach for the cell door, Dave caught hold of her wrist--and then her attention.

"Hello, is anyone by the name of common sense in there? These guys are prisoners for a reason. Why are you about to open the door and let them waltz out of here, and probably cut us new faces in the process?"

"Dave, please," Rose sighed. "It would be far more pleasant to continue this conversation on soft cushions, in a warm room, and in privacy."

At the use of his name, Dave bristled. His sister was cunning, tactful, and strategic--which was not to say that he lacked any of those traits when obligated--but he struggled to grasp her reasoning at present.

With a frown, Dave attempted to deter Rose from what he felt was a rash spur-of-the-moment choice.

"Are we supposed to be on a first name basis now? We're cool with these guys because they told us their first names under threat of magical violence? Do trolls even have first and last names? What exactly makes you think an offer outside is okay or even safe?"

Rose exhaled at him through pursed lips and sent him a level stare.

"I'll have you know I have a rational explanation for this offer."

"And what could that possibly be? You had a ‘dream’ or some hocus pocus again?"

Some people were said to be superstitious. They would dream and be so affected by it that their decisions were influenced accordingly. Rose never admitted to being moved by any dreams; instead, she invested herself into visions. Dave thought the terms to be interchangeable, but Rose never failed to correct him.

"Dreams are from within, Dave. Visions are from without," she had explained to him more than once.

Dave had given up working at making Rose's visions seem less credible. Whatever hunch she often had, however unpredictable or nonsensical it seemed to him, his sister had thus far managed to prove them useful--dependable, even. It didn't mean that he relied on them or enjoyed hearing about them, however, and they both knew his words were a protest to a vision being reason enough to open the cell door.

"Vision, Dave. Not a dream. Dreams come from--"

"Within, yeah, yeah. I've memorized your sage proverb after hearing it a thousand times. Are you seriously telling me we came down here to free troll prisoners because some disembodied voice told you so?"

He released her wrist with a heavy sigh. Rose folded her arms over her chest and pressed her lips into a thin line. He had offended her.

"You're making a scene."

Dave bit back his retort and mentally retraced his steps. A tantrum would bring no solutions. He needed something more concrete to persuade Rose against her whims, and it seemed unlikely that he would find anything—especially now that he had insulted her visions. She would have her way, and he was left in search of justifying going along with it.

From behind the bars, Dave could feel the eyes of at least one troll. With a sideways glance, he studied them from the safety of his shades. The shorter troll--Karkat?--appeared indifferent to a pair of bickering humans just out of arm's reach, his face drawn into wrinkles of distaste, his arms and legs crossed in a way that reminded Dave of a pouting child. The troll behind him--Sollux--could see nothing, but seemed expectant of something, his head positioned to directly face his visitors. It was creepy, and Dave recalled the question Rose had asked about feeling something.

"Alright, so I have my own questions I want answered before this..." He gestured loosely in the air with a hand. "..this ‘whatever you're doing’ happens."

Rose cocked an eyebrow at him and might have smiled.

"Of course."

"Right. So," Dave shifted and peered into the cell, "If you're a 'psychic,' Sollux? Did I say that right?"

"Yeah."

"Why haven't you used your psychic powers to break out of here? What do your powers even do? Do they not activate at certain times of the day, or do you need a recharge?"

"You're somehow worse at asking questions than your partner," snarled Karkat, but Sollux hissed a foreign word to him and the grousing quieted.

"I'm tired," Sollux spoke slowly, as if testing his words. "Trolls sleep during your day, and I was supposed to be resting when you came here. Your patrol officer hit my head pretty hard and it's been difficult to concentrate since."

Patrol officer? Dave decided that must be in reference to Dirk. He grunted in thought for a moment before asking, "Weren't you guys already hashing it out down here before we walked up? Pretty sure you--or Karkat--one of you was fussing a bunch."

Sollux drew his legs under him and pushed himself up to stand. At his movement, Karkat quickly followed form and his eyes searched his companion as if for instructions.

"I'm fine, Karkat. But to answer your question... Dave, was it?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"I had a bad dream."

Dave could feel Rose's intrigue building and threatening to smother him. It wouldn't be long before she interrupted.

"A bad dream," he repeated. What was with everyone and dreams lately? When was he going to have one of these prophetic dreams to clue him in on the latest Skaian news? Or was this supposed to be the dream right now?

"Yes. A bad dream. I have them often. It comes with my abilities, which seem different than your friend's sorcery I felt moments ago. But you'll have to understand why I'm interested in her offer if it's because of a vision, besides obviously wanting to get out of here."

"So you accept?" Rose stepped forward and rested a hand on the cell door.

"You sound way too delighted about this. It’s like your ass is on fire to open this door. He didn't even say what he could do. You don't know what they can do, and he could be lying about everything," Dave huffed.

As if Dave had said nothing, Sollux simply said, "Yes."

"Marvelous!" Rose beamed, then paused. "I do, of course, have some requirements if I am to release you."

"Great, she's going to turn us into slaves," Karkat groaned.

"What a fine idea, Karkat. I had other rules in mind, but servitude seems fitting given my current title," Rose chuckled.

It was difficult for Dave not to bury his face in his hands. Karkat seemed equally as vexed and snapped, "What are you, the empress?"

"Oh, no. Nothing like that. It's irrelevant at the moment, anyways."

"What are the rules," Sollux bluntly interjected.

"Thank you for your respect to the topic at hand, Sollux. The rules will be simple. First, you answer only to me and Dave. Secondly, being that you are in our possession, you will follow all commands. And lastly, and most obviously, do not escape or I will be forced to unleash dire consequences."

Dave fought to keep his face neutral. Rose had instantly locked him into the role of an accomplice. If their mother caught wind of this, he would suffer as much as she would now. And her "rules" were so cliché and simple that they were almost boring. "Do what I say or I'll punish you." Except she had failed to mention she was the ruler of Prospit, succeeded by himself, and heiress to Skaia. What ruler entered a prison to visit enemy spies, and demand they allow her to release them as long as they agreed to play Simon Says?

"Sure," Sollux agreed with more insouciance than Dave thought appropriate. "Karkat?"

Despite the fact that Karkat had deferred to Sollux when it came to conversation, their relationship was not as one-sided as first impressions might have dictated.

"Ugh, fine, it's not like I have any choice if I don't want to die waiting in here."

Sollux sighed, then stated, "Then we agree. We'll follow your ‘rules.’"

"I think this is a terrible idea, in case you didn't catch that the first time," Dave grumbled as he watched Rose unlock the door. He hadn’t even noticed when she had acquired the key.

He was tense, hands readied to summon his sword, body prepared to spring in defense of his sister, but Dave watched the two trolls neatly file through the door. They waited against the wall like children with a teacher, waited for Rose to take the lead.

Were they truly going to cooperate? The scenario was surreal. Dave had followed Rose into the prison out of curiosity more than anything else, and made himself available to support her if the occupants behaved unruly toward her, but never had he imagined that they would personally escort them back out onto the streets of Prospit. Certainly some discussion was expected, but jailbreak? It was hard to make heads or tails of what Rose might be planning.

"Exactly what are we supposed to tell Dirk when he finds out?" Dave questioned as they ascended flights of stairs and walked through extended hallways. With Rose at the front, Sollux behind her and Karkat behind him, Dave watched the tail and knew everything he said would be filtered through troll ears. It made him uncomfortable, as if they were eavesdropping, though due to Rose's decision these trolls would quickly learn much more than they would have on their own.

"I imagine we'll tell him the truth," came what sounded to be an absent-minded reply from Rose.

"Do you not have that planned? You know he's going to make a big deal out of it, being head of security and all."

"Is Dirk the name of the douche who knocked us out and put us down here?" Karkat's voice echoed against the walls of the prison as they reached the last flight of stairs before ground level. Sollux reached up and rubbed the back of his head at the words, a sign that damage had been inflicted there during the encounter.

"It was indeed Dirk who captured you," Rose confirmed before Dave could respond. "And I believe that's him coming down the hallway now."

Dave's eyes jerked up to realize that Rose was right. Closing in on them, and between them and the exit, was the taller form of Dirk, head of security, head general of Skaian military, his personal tutor… and his half-brother.

"Explain to me what I am seeing here," Dirk's voice reached them shortly before he did. Positioned in the center of the hallway, he blocked their path, and Rose brought the party to a halt.

Dirk might have passed off as Dave if his sunglasses were not as pointy, if his hair was not as spikey, and if his attire had been a brighter red instead of muted magenta. Shrouded in a cloak, his sword the most prominent feature on his body, Dirk was clearly dressed for patrol. By appearance alone, it was easy to deduce that the man had come to check on his prisoners.

"I am escorting these prisoners to their new quarters," Rose informed him, her voice testing the waters. Although Dirk was older than Rose by several years, she outranked him and could easily remind him of that advantage.

"What 'new quarters' would that be?"

"My own."

"Excuse me?"

Dave watched Dirk's lips twist downwards more in confusion than disapproval. In that moment, he noticed Karkat's fists clenching, and Dave dropped a hand to his own sword, but the troll remained silent and otherwise still.

"Was I unclear in my intentions, Mr. Strider?"

Dirk stiffened and pulled himself taller. If Rose was willing to pull out last names already, she was beyond argument with anyone besides her mother. Dirk reached that conclusion quicker than Dave had himself.

"...No."

"Then if you will excuse us, I would like us to reach our destination before dark."

Dirk grunted a resigned response and stepped to the side to grant passage to the exit. Dave willed himself to look straight ahead and to keep his jaw relaxed. Despite his worries, Dirk said nothing to him as he passed, though Dave was sure he would receive a lecture later. It would inevitably end up being about politics, he’d wager.

As they finally reached the outside and he stepped through the door, Dave released the breath he didn't realize he had been holding and blinked his eyes back into focus.

The walk back to the castle wasn’t long, but it suddenly felt like miles away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated over fleshing out Sollux's lisp and it seemed less tiresome on the reader's end to let those details fill in on their own rather than force it through a mess of text. After reading some dialogue in which several authors chose to write out the lisp and consequently hiccuping over the words trying to make sense of it, I thought I'd avoid doing that to you guys. It's not like it's permanently a defining characteristic for Mr. Captor, anyways. :)
> 
> Rose and Dirk, on the other hand, are slightly harder to pin down. We'll see how well that goes in future chapters.


End file.
